


Wild

by Destina



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-04-01
Updated: 2005-04-01
Packaged: 2018-04-28 04:58:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5078716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Destina/pseuds/Destina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short sequel to "A Heart For Every Fate."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wild

**Author's Note:**

> Written in April 2005 and posted to AO3 in October 2015. This story will make much more sense if you've read A Heart For Every Fate first.

Each spring, the pink wildflowers bloomed on the edges of the forest, spreading toward the ocean as the summer season drew near. Daniel discovered the first summer that they made a powerful, incandescent ink, but everything they touched turned bright fuschia. The first time Jack found him in the middle of the field of flowers, naked as a jaybird and plucking flowers into a ratty bark basket, he had the best laugh he'd had since they were marooned. 

Then he shucked off his own clothes and tackled Daniel in the middle of the field, and by the time they were finished, Daniel's ass had absorbed the pink of a three-week sunburn. Jack had tried his best to lick it off him, but with no luck. Not that he'd minded trying. 

It was an annual ritual, now. Jack stared up at the bright, deep blue of the summer sky and spread his arms out wide; the flowers tickled his bare skin. "I'm not the Skipper," he said, flicking soft blades of grass between his thumb and forefinger. 

"Yes, you are. Well...maybe not anymore." Daniel was sprawled out beside him, glasses off - he wore them less and less now, out of paranoia or maybe because they didn't work as well as they used to, Jack wasn't sure which - and shifted onto his side to look at Jack.. A smudge of pink slipped from the side of his nose down to the corner of his lips. "Although I think you think you're still in charge."

"Hey, I'm easy." Jack crossed his feet at the ankles and tried not to grin at Daniel's pink-striped face. He looked back up at the sky, then closed his eyes; sunlight warmed his face and gave an opaque red glow to his closed eyelids. "Waste a whole day napping in a field of pink pansies? No problem."

"Oh, you'll make me pay tomorrow. You always do." Daniel's fingers strayed over to Jack's skin, as they often did, and he slid his thumb slowly down Jack's arm, from the rounded curve of his shoulder to his wrist, then back again. "You'll probably want me to dig a fifty-foot latrine."

"I've mellowed," Jack said, and swallowed hard as Daniel's hand strayed just a little, his fingers drawing across the top of Jack's thigh. "Only twenty feet."

"Right." Daniel sighed. "So I guess I have to be the Professor, right?" 

"Unless you want to be Ginger," Jack said. He reached out blind, guided by Daniel's soft snorting laughter, and found Daniel's hand, then guided it to his chest and clasped his own hand over it. 

"I didn't bring the right clothes."

"True." 

They were quiet for a moment. In the forest, a bird was calling softly, a warbling hoot that was answered by a chorus of anxious squawks. Daniel shifted again and his breath was warm against Jack's face as he pressed his lips to Jack's temple, then said softly, "You could be Mary Ann."

"Not perky enough."

"But you have the shorts." 

Jack had a momentary flash of memory: Daniel, yanking so hard at his BDUs that they ripped coming off over his boots. He'd been so irritated; it wasn't like they had an infinite supply of new clothing. But Daniel had a way of putting things in perspective, what with his warm mouth and his method of dissolving Jack's annoyance. Hadn't taken long, which surprised Jack, because he was getting older with each passing blowjob. 

And the pants had cut off neatly into shorts, so it wasn't like it hadn't all worked out well. 

"I'll be the rich guy," Jack said, and tilted his neck so Daniel could get to it more easily with his warm, soft lips and his sharp teeth. He reached up and cupped the back of Daniel's neck, where the roughly-cut hairs straggled and strayed. "Really rich."

"There's no way I'm going to be the wife," Daniel said, and then his mouth closed over Jack's. 

There were sometimes words in the back of Jack's mind when Daniel kissed him that way, words that were guttural and sappy and sentimental, but he rarely said them. This thing with Daniel was beyond his ability to shape into language. Sometimes, though, he was able to come up with just the right thing. "I'll buy you jewelry," he gasped, and Daniel broke the kiss, laughing hard enough to provoke a grin from Jack. 

"How about if you dig the latrine?" Daniel asked. Jack shook his head a little and smiled, which Daniel would take for agreement. Jack already knew that when they hauled their naked butts back to the hut, Daniel was going to hand Jack the shovel and tell him to get busy. 

Jack kissed the side of Daniel's nose, and licked at the pink paint there. The more Daniel smiled, the more Jack wanted to kiss that smile into submission, to make Daniel's lips part, and strange languages flow out, and hear the breath catch on the back of Jack's name. This was when he didn't think about cheeseburgers, or refrigerators, or airplanes that tilted on the edge of the sky; this was when didn't remember why he ever wanted anything more. If only he had known how easy it could be, he would have crawled out of his skin and into Daniel's long before the day they arrived on this world. 

He rolled over and pressed his weight into Daniel, just to watch the look on his face, that sharp, sweet look of wanting. He would dig the latrines; he would round up old books for Daniel, and make pencils out of shards of wood from the cookfires. He would even forget, sometimes, that he would never see stars he knew in the sky overhead again. All these things he could do, because of Daniel. 

Jack pressed Daniel down into the carpet of wildflowers and smiled into the curve of his neck. They both knew who was the Skipper, here.


End file.
